Hush
by ColeMarie10
Summary: They may as well have sewn his lips together. /No slash. Post-avengers. Trigger alert.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The muzzle was removed as soon as they rematerialised by the Bifrost. Thor almost dropped the Tesseract in his hurry to take it off and embrace his brother, who was somewhat taken aback after Thor's more than frosty composure on Midgard.

"What are you doing to me, you foul oaf?" Loki demanded, shaking him off as best he could.

Thor loosed his grip, but kept a hold of his shoulders. "I am truly sorry, Loki."

Loki scowled, pulling himself out of Thor's grip. "For what, brother mine? What could you, O Mighty Thor, possibly have to apologise for?"

Thor, visibly upset, turned away. "For what is about to happen to you."

The words pulled Loki up short. He had expected Thor to prattle on about past misdeeds, not his impending punishment. Surely he knew no punishment could compare to what he had already suffered at his families hands. "Oh? And what would that be?" He asked, trying to exhume the same air of confidence and defiance that he had whilst fighting those pathetic humans.

He didn't answer for a long time. Eventually, he sent the guards who had been waiting for them away with a gesture. Loki eyed the Tesseract, forgotten on the floor, but he was bound by magic as much as metal, and there was nothing he could do. Thor turned back to face him, and Loki quickly raised his gaze to meet his eyes, but Thor didn't even notice his distraction. "Please, Loki, tell me now. Why did let yourself fall?" He gestures vaguely backwards to where the Rainbow Bridge was still shattered over the void.

"You surprise me, Thor. You don't ask where I went? Why I returned to that pile of rock you love so much?"

"That is not what I care about. When you released Gungnir you must have thought it meant your death."

Loki lowered his gaze, wondering. Why did his brother ask these questions now? Surely they were of lesser importance, surely they could wait. All Loki knew was that he was not in the mood to play games that he didn't know the rules of. He looked behind him to where the guards still waited and were murmuring to each other. "They're getting impatient, I'm sure Odin will not appreciate the delay."

It took a moment or two for Thor to nod, to realise he would not get any answers today. Slowly, he raised the muzzle that was still in his hand. "Father is expecting you to be wearing this."

Loki nodded, annoyed. He hated that cursed muzzle. So long as he had his words he had some measure of power. As Thor locked it about his jaw, Loki saw more sorrow in his brother than he had any reason to expect from this action.

Thor signalled the guards back over and picked up the Tesseract again. Two guards that Loki recognised but didn't know held his arms, and gently but firmly led him into the castle and towards Odin's throne room. The chains about his feet and the injuries obtained from his unfortunate meeting with that green beast made it hard for him to keep stride, but he kept his head high and hid it as much as he could. He would not walk in limping and defeated. He was born to be a king, and even in his current state he would remain proud.

As he walked down the long corridors he crossed fellow Asgardians, some he felt he knew from a long time ago. Many showed surprise, or anger. Once he thought he even saw pity. It was after that that he kept his gaze lowered to his own feet. The surprise and anger he could understand, most still thought him dead, and all still remembered what he had done, but he could not abide their pity.

It felt like a year before the golden doors opened before him, and the hands at his arms were replaced by Thor's strong grip on his shoulder. As they began the long walk up to where Odin sat on his great throne, Loki heard a faintly whispered "forgive me, brother." He ignored the words, but they echoed around his head. What did Odin have planned, and why was Thor so remorseful about it?

They both kneeled at the customary spot, Loki having some trouble with his chains. When Odin bid them rise he, to his embarrassment, had to be aided by his brother. He cast his gaze about the room, and saw Frigga standing of to the side. Her face was so conflicted it was unreadable.

"Loki, son of Odin," the man who had claimed to be his father began. Loki scowled behind his mask, he was no son of Asgard. "You have been returned here to pay for your crimes against Asgard, Jotunheim and Midgard. Your punishment will be carried out as I see fit, in accordance with agreements made between these three realms."

The muzzle was removed as Odin asked, "Is there anything you have to say in defence of your actions?"

He remained silent.

"Is there anything you have to say that could be of benefit in the defence against the forces you brought into play? Any aid you offer will encourage a more lenient punishment."

Again, he was silent. He would remain defiant to the last.

Odin sighed, a rare occurrence of emotion in his mighty hall. "I wished you would co-operate, my son."

"I am not your son," Loki replied without thought. Odin ignored the words.

"Loki, son of Odin. You leave me little choice. I will not kill or imprison you, it is not our way. I will not exile you, you are a force too powerful for that." He seemed to ponder for a minute. "I had thought to take your magic from you, however that is too valuable an asset for us to lose when we do not know what the future holds."

Loki struggled to contain a sigh of relief, that had been what he most feared. It was foolish, really, to allow him to keep his powers but it seemed Odin still thought he could be redeemed. That only left the question of what his punishment was to be. He couldn't help but steal a glance at his brother, hoping to glean some idea, but his hope was futile.

"I take from you your voice."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, before his world crashed around him. He couldn't help but fall to his knees. Loki was many things, a sorcerer, a trickster, a god and a prince, but above all he was a wordsmith. Even without his magic, his silver tongue would not fail him. His words were the source of who he was, they were his real power. The magic was just tricks and science, but with his words he could tear apart a nation. "Please, no." He whispered, unsure whether it was only in his mind or not.

Frantic, he looked up to where his brother stood beside him, unsurprised. He knew it would happen, that was why he asked those questions. He looked to Frigga, whose face was blank aside from the single tear, and he looked to Odin, who was handed one of many artefacts from the Vault.

Odin held the artefact before him, asking "do you have any final words?"

His eyes misting over he struggled to his feet. "Curse you all!" He screamed, lunging forward before Thor grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Curse you!"

And suddenly he couldn't breathe. He felt like he had just been hit in the chest with Mjolnir, and he collapsed back down to his knees. Tears flowed freely as his throat constricted. He felt like he was suffocating, his vision clouded over and he saw stars, and it felt like he was back in that unfathomable void. He started to choke, and then vomited. As Thor went to hold him he collapsed, unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

He could eat, he could breathe, but he couldn't speak. He could make sounds, and shape the words in his mouth, but they came out strained and faint, as though there were hands permanently clasped about his throat restricting his airways. That was almost the case. A ring of metal bound his throat, from chin to collar bone, and it tore at his skin when he tried too hard to speak.

When he had regained consciousness that night he had found himself back in his old quarters. The familiar green decorations comforted and distressed him at the same time. It was in this room that he had always been able to find an escape in his books and magic, but it was this room that he had been forced into by the taunts of his brother so often. Him being returned here simply meant a return to the old ways. It was as he lay, entertained only by his thoughts, that he noticed the coldness on his neck.

In a moment he was before his mirror, examining what could only be a glorified gag. He didn't even bother trying to remove it with magic, he could feel the repellent forces on it, they emanated through his skin. He raised his hands to it, and found it almost soft to the touch. It was flexible, smooth, and moved with him, but the instant he opened his mouth as though to make a sound it tightened, and he felt it cut into his chin and collar. It was only light, but it was enough to know what would happen should he force words out of his throat.

Loki pondered the bronze collar as he dressed himself, finding he was still in his battle worn armour. He knew little of the collar itself, it had never warranted his attention, but it was clear it could not be removed or easily circumvented. He might never utter another word. Thor would protest after a while, longing for the answers to his questions. Frigga would pity him. Odin would not relent. His magic was all that mattered to the king, his value in war and battle. It appeared some things never changed.

So absorbed in his loathing of himself and his family, staring at his pale and battered reflection, he didn't even finish dressing himself until the sun came up and his brother thundered his way into the room. He just caught sight of the bruises that covered Loki's body before they were hidden behind green cloth. Thor started to ask a question, before his eyes found the collar and he realised how futile that would be.

Loki simply stared at him, waiting. Thor slowly approached, and lifted a hand as though to touch the metal about his brothers throat. Loki lightly deflected it, with no change of expression or stance.

It seemed to take Thor a while to gather his thoughts. He had tried to prepare himself before entering the room, but as soon as he saw his brother all such thoughts fled his mind. Before him a shadow of the man he had lost stood. Back in his chambers and out of his armour Thor saw the little boy who had constantly tailed him once more, for an instant he was not the deranged man who had tried to wipe out to realms and rule another. And in that instant he was broken.

It was only when Loki turned away, towards his desk, that Thor snapped back to reality. "Brother, you have slept two nights. Mother and father will wish to see you."

Loki ignored him, trying to make it clear how little he wished to see them. Thor, however, persisted. "Our mother worries for your health."

Again, Loki ignored the words. If he only had his speech he could send Thor away with ease. The only options he had left to him were his magic, and gesturing about like a petulant child.

When Thor once again began to speak Loki chose the former, propelling his brother from his chambers. He turned around when he heard him crash against the floor of the outer corridor. He had not intended to be so forceful. When he met Thor's eyes he did not see surprise, but resignation. Loki was glad of it. If Thor thought he would have his idolising little brother back now they had returned to Asgard, he was sorely mistaken.

Closing the door, Loki pondered what to do about the situation. He was under no illusions, it was clear he was a prisoner here. He was sure that even now Heimdall's gaze was trained on him this very moment. As it was, it appeared he would need to learn more of his gag or wait for some external factor to tip the balance in his favour. He turned to the piles of books on either side of his desk, using his magic to search for one which he knew contained information on some of the artefacts from the vault. After being unable to locate it, he remembered that it was one of those which he had last taken to the library, and was most likely still there. Barely able to admit it to himself, he was still ashamed to be seen walking the corridors and instead called to his brother who was just regaining his footing.

As soon as he tried to shout the collar, which he has almost forgotten about, constricted. It tore at him, cutting the flesh under his chin and around the base of his throat, and he felt a trickle of blood travel down his body as he choked. The more he coughed and spluttered the tighter it got, as he tried deep breaths that only triggered it more. Soon, it completely cut off his air supply and he collapsed, knocking over books and his desk chair as he fell to his hands and knees.

The noise must have alerted Thor, who came crashing through the door an instant later. He entered to see his brother coughing blood onto the floor. He pulled Loki up into a sitting position and grasped his shaking shoulders, shouting at him to "just breathe" and "be calm, brother". Loki stared at him desperately, trying to heed his words and escape the suffocating feeling and the memories it evoked. The memories of falling and darkness and cold, the intense pain that he remembered so vividly he could almost feel it again.

When Loki came to his senses and saw the concerned face of his brother before him he felt disgusted with himself. How had he, he who should be a king, been reduced to such a lowly state? Kneeling before Thor, covered in tears and sweat and blood. He didn't even attempt to ask him to leave, instead climbing straight up on to his bed, exhausted. Thor didn't even move until he was fast asleep.

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AN: I'm already surprised by the number of people who have read this and added it to alerts, holy hell. Thank you, all of you, I'll try not to disappoint. That said, I warn you now that I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this. As of this point, no plot is planned whatsoever. I'm slowly working on it, though. The great response I've gotten already should be enough to encourage me to complete this work, and in good time. Any reviews, (gently put) criticism or opinions would be massively appreciated as well - and if you see any typo's or vocab/grammatical errors, please let me know so I can correct it ASAP! It's easy to miss things when re-reading your own work.) Wow this AN is longer than most paragraphs, sorry about that. I'll hardly ever add one.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Loki jerked awake in a pool of sweat. It was the same nightmare as always. He was falling, faster and faster, sustained only by an instinctive magic that he wanted nothing more than to disappear so the torment would end. He was caught, snared like a mouse in a trap. He was subjugated, the Tesseract was wielded against him. He was tortured. Pain. Green eyes, blue eyes.

He tried to force away the dream, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. It wasn't real. Not anymore. He was safe now, from those particular demons at least. The rest still clung about his throat as tightly as the bronze gag that bound him. He sat up too fast, and pain shot through his side. The injuries from the fight on Midgard still had not healed, but he decided to suffer through them rather than journey to the wards and be tended to by the healers.

Loki smashed the mirror with a blast of magic when he caught sight of himself. He looked wretched, more pale and sickly than usual, and collared like some kind of animal. The magic weakened him much more than it should have, which is when he remembered how long Thor had said he had slept. It was almost a week now since he had last eaten, and that had been a soldiers portion pushed through the slot in the prison he was kept in on Midgard before Thor took him away. He would never admit it to him, but Loki was grateful to his brother for removing him from that prison. Whilst he could afford to play games with that little human team the organisation that had held him would have had him killed. That said, his fate on Asgard wasn't much better.

Catching himself before he tried to call aloud, Loki rang a bell for a servant. None came. He supposed he had lost his status as royalty, or maybe his servants had all just moved on whilst he had been gone. Now he thought about it, Loki didn't even know how much time had passed since that fateful day on the Bifrost when he should have died. The human scientist, Selvig, hadn't aged substantially, so it couldn't have been more than a few years. It had felt like he had fallen for an eternity. Maybe he had, who knew what powers over time those who found him had.

Loki went to clean himself off, foregoing the breaking of his fast for now. He had little else to do, so he could afford to sleep again to regain his lost energy. It was as he washed that he noticed he had drawn blood from his palms. The fresh crimson created a shock contrast from the whiteness of his skin.

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For the next week, Loki was completely alone. Neither Thor nor any other members of his family attempted to contact him. He was glad of it, he didn't wish to see them. Rather than face the long walk to the kitchens, or try to tell a servant what he wished for, he sustained himself with his magic. It didn't dissipate his hunger, and it wore him out substantially, but it kept him alive. The pangs of hunger were now a familiar feeling, comforting him when he felt the overwhelming monotony of his situation would drive him mad. He slept for the majority of each day at first, recuperating his power. When the nightmares got unbearable, he just lay awake, not moving at all to keep as much strength as he could.

By the time Thor once again returned, he was emaciated. Already thin, his ribs jutted out and his little finger and thumb could meet around his forearm. Hidden under a long, heavy shirt, Thor didn't even notice. He charged into the room, triggering the automatic lighting that hadn't been on since Loki took himself to bed. The sudden light in the dim mid-morning almost blinded him.

"Brother!" Thor roared, another assault on his unused senses. "I have need of thee."

Loki struggled to sit up, able to expend some energy after spending so long stationary, but unused to movement. He squinted at Thor, his eyes still adjusting. His brother took this as an invitation to continue.

"Repairs to the Bifrost are not proceeding at a rate our father finds pleasing. He has decided that your expertise in magic and the crossing of the realms by other routes could aid Asgard greatly."

Loki did not react. If Thor and Odin thought that their little mischievous prince, the one who followed their every whim with only minor trickery to entertain himself, was back then they were sorely wrong. He would not resume his place as the disfavoured son. Loki lay back down, not wanting to waste energy on using magic to make it clear what his opinion was. Did they really think he was suddenly cowed into submission? That they could just forget everything he had done, both of his own accord and when under the influence of the Tesseract? Because he could not, and would not. His actions against Jotunheim were justified. He could have ended the war, he could have killed those vile frost giants. He still could, given half a chance.

Thor interrupted his abstraction. "Brother, you have not left this room in some days." He sounded sorrowful.

Loki clenched his jaw, wishing he could issue a scathing retort. He stood before his brother, ignoring the discomfort, and fashioned a simple illusion. A manacle and chains about his wrists to make the message clear. He was a prisoner, as they both knew, and he would not pretend otherwise.

"Loki, no," Thor said, watching as the manacles faded back into nothingness, "You are not some common criminal. You are my brother, the son of Odin and Prince of Asgard."

The words enraged him. He had no place here. He was a war criminal, a petty villain. He was a monster. The illusion of the chains had weakened him, and he swayed a little on his feet. He needed to preserve some energy and send Thor away, before he collapsed. The best way he could think of was to show Thor exactly what he was. He dropped the magical facade that for most of his life he didn't even know he had held. As his skin turned blue, and he resumed his true form, he felt a little stronger.

Thor could only stare, having never seen his brother like this. He knew of his parentage, he had been told when they had thought Loki dead, but he had never imagined it like this. He still looked like himself, despite it all. "Brother..."

Loki wanted to scream, to yell and to attack, but there was nothing he could do. How clear could he make it that he was no longer Thor's brother? Maybe try to destroy a realm or two? Loki was so malnourished that he couldn't muster the strength or will to reinstate his personal illusion, let alone force Thor from the room again. He didn't feel he would be satisfied with that anyway. He wanted to cause harm, he wanted to see him bleed. Loki had tried to use his magic as a more offensive weapon many times when he had first learned to fight, trying to incorporate into his natural style. Unfortunately, it had never quite worked in that away. Above all, he was a trickster.

But he didn't have to be, Loki realised. He could fight, and he could kill. Just not Thor, and not now. He could, however, hurt him later. He could prove himself. All he needed was for Thor to not interfere this time.

Suddenly Thor was holding him up. He hadn't even realised he had drained his energy so much, even in his true form. When Thor held him he was surprised by just how light his brother was. He was always able to lift him easily, but now he was barely a weight at all. Just holding him he was able to feel Loki's vertebrae protruding from his back, carrying him to the healers was not a challenge.

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AN: Any reviews would be massively appreciated, thank you.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: A trigger warning. Also, please review etc.

Chapter Four

Loki awoke some days later to white and pale gold. He was in the hospital, he'd been there so many times that he recognised it instantly. He was tired and groggy, but he could already tell he was stronger than he had been in a long time, maybe even since he sent the Destroyer. He had never fully healed after his fall through the void. Now though, now he was strong.

He looked around to see Thor and Frigga at his bedside, and internally groaned at the thought. How dare they pretend to care? At least Odin didn't try, but then he never did anyway.

"My son," Frigga began, and he could see the unshed tears in her eyes. Perhaps she did truly mourn. "How do you feel?"

Loki scowled, gritting his teeth. Frigga looked saddened by his reaction but she shouldn't have expected any better. Thor put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Brother, you had not eaten. You were starving to death. Why? The collar does not hinder you." It only took him a moment to remember Loki could not respond. "You should have gotten food from the kitchen, but if you still wish to remain in your quarters I will get a servant to bring you regular meals."

Loki just shook his head, not sure why he was so opposed to the idea.

Thor nodded, as though understanding what even he did not. "If you wish, I will bring you your meals personally."

He shook his head again. He didn't want meals. He didn't want Thor, or anyone else, treating him like some injured puppy. He wanted to prove himself. To prove he was strong, even without his voice. To prove he was worthy, and to prove he was no longer than child he was. He wanted them to see. He knew what he needed to do, he just need to form a plan as to how.

Thor and Frigga left a few minutes later as it fast became clear he wasn't in the mood to even try to converse. Several hours later the nurses let him go, with strict orders that he eat three meals a day and return in a week so they could check on his progress.

On the long walk back to his own chambers he kept his head down, avoiding the gazes of any who crossed his path. At one point he even ducked into an adjoining room to hide from Fandral and Hogun, who were walking down the corridor in front if him.

Back in his quarters, he was greeted by a veritable buffet. The very thought of eating any of what was before him made him feel sick. The weight he had gained from the nutrients they had been injecting in him and days of bed rest made him feel uncomfortably heavy, and he decided it was perfectly safe for him to fast a little longer until he returned to his normal weight at least. He cast the food aside, the glass and porcelain tableware crashing onto the floor and shattering. It was oddly cathartic. He used a blast of power to shatter it further. Causing the remains of the food to vanish, he admired the shattered materials before him. He had always found destruction beautiful. Entropy.

Loki bent to pick up a jagged piece of glass, in which he could see his green eyes dimly reflected. In frustration, he gripped it tight, and it cut into the flesh of his palm. Instinctively, he dropped it where it cracked down the centre, edges tinted pink. He turned his hand over to examine it. Two thin lines of red crossed his palm from either side of the jagged piece. Loki merely gazed at them a moment before lightly pulling the skin apart. The faint lines filled up in an instant, and a bead of blood traveled down his wrist, curving and dropping off of his arm. For a moment he could only watch, before blotting the wound with the sleeve of his shirt.

Before he fully realised what he was doing, he had another piece of glass in his other hand, and was resting it against the supple skin of his forearm. He dug it in lightly and slowly drew it back, marvelling at the brightness of the red on his pale skin. For a moment he was able to forget it all. The throne, his brother, his failed conquests, even the cursed collar about his throat. As the blood beaded up and out of the skin he watched, absorbed in the calm. It was like he had just received a good blow in a fair battle. The slight adrenaline only made him want to fight more, to give and to take. The injury only made him stronger.  
As he waited for the bleeding to stop he tried to expand his simple idea into a plan. And it was a simple idea, really. He had to prove to Thor that he could fight, and he would no longer live in his brothers shadow. This time, instead of taking his planet, he would kill his friends. Those petty humans, those 'Avengers' would serve him in their death.

Loki healed the wounds on his arm and hand as soon as they stopped throbbing and the pain subsided. They vanished without a trace, the skin knitting together under his gaze.

After several hours of quiet contemplation Loki was unable to form a single concrete plan. There were too many variables, too many things he did not know. He knew the men and women of the team as well as he possibly could: The patriot struggling in a time beyond him, the alcoholic genius living in the influence of his past, the scientist afraid of his very being, the women whose main strength was her weakness and the short tempered pet who merely followed orders. What he did not know was how they would react to a personal threat. The organisation ran by the one-eyed man was the wildcard. Loki wasn't quite sure how the Avengers and SHIELD worked together, or how closely linked members of the team were through the organisation. Could he pick them off one-by-one? He might be able to destroy half the team before the others gathered. Or would they instantly group together?

The trickster god almost didn't care to scheme. He wanted chaos, and what would cause better chaos than a foe with no pattern? One who merely caused destruction for destructions sake?

Even without the Bifrost or his 'fathers' power Loki could still get to the planet Earth. He had always had his own ways of journeying between realms that even Heimdall could not see. And Loki had not been unobservant when captured on Midgard. He knew where he could best find the Avengers, either together or apart. Whilst the patriotic Captain America was the leader of the team, Tony Stark was the heart. It was at his home that he would find them.

Surprise would be his advantage. If they were all there he could kill them all in an hour and be back before anyone noticed he was gone, but that was not what he wanted. He wanted a show, he wanted a bit of fun and a good fight. He needed to prove a point, and that was the difficulty. Thor would have to know, and for that Loki had to stay there a little longer. If he stayed too long, though, SHIELD would swoop in. Although, if he could keep the damage localised they might get too caught up in the internal bureaucracy. Loki knew that tensions had frayed between departments during his last attack.

Loki scowled, he was going round in circles. Perhaps if he waited a short while, until Thor next came near, he could time it right. He could travel to Earth and cause enough trouble to gather the Avengers against him before Thor realised he had left the city, but after he realised his brother was gone from his rooms. Thor would know where he had gone, thinking Loki was simply after revenge. Perhaps he was, he wouldn't mind cutting that green beast down to size. What would he do with Thor though? Would he, could he, even, kill his brother? Loki wasn't sure on either count.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I'm going to apologise for this chapter. It's taken me a week to write but it's still absolutely awful. I may actually completely redo it at some point. I've been busy lately, out of the country for a while so everything's been a bit disjointed. Also, this is just poorly written. There's little in the way of character development, instead it has very condensed plot factors. With time or skill I may have made this two or three chapters, but a fancy plot has never been my priority.

Long story short, this chapter is necessary but not the future tone of the story. Regular programming will resume shortly.

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Chapter Five

Sunrise the next morning brought Thor with it, with a plate of food in which Loki had no interest in consuming. As soon as Loki was aware of his approach, he began the final stage of the process. He had prepared the rest overnight, correctly assuming Thor would be there at first light. Loki vanished into the path between worlds shortly before his brother crossed the threshold.

Thor looked around in confusion, expecting Loki to have returned to his near-catatonic state, or to be about to attack him or send him away. But there was nothing, he wasn't there. Thor set down the plate on his desk and checked the other rooms, it appeared he had voluntarily ventured out into the city. Thor knew he had to find him, if only to keep an eye on him, but he decided that he had time to spare rather than rush to Heimdall.

The first port of call was, naturally, the library. The second was the observatory. The third was the kitchens. The fourth was back in his chambers. The fifth was the Vault. For the sixth, Thor went so far as to check the taverns, but he wasn't surprised to find his brother absent. After he had passed almost the whole day in this manner, he headed to the shattered Rainbow Bridge.

Heimdall stood watch, gazing into space with old eyes. He turned to greet Thor before anybody else would have even been aware of his presence without a spell. "What do you seek?"

"Loki. He is missing."

Heimdall once again looked into space, searching. He was still for a long time before he gave his answer. "Indeed he is. Loki is shrouded from me."

"How can he do this?" Thor asked. Heimdall was not easily tricked.

"I am not aware. It appears that when Loki travels he can mask himself."

"Travels? When he travels where?"

* * *

When Loki reappeared he was weakened. Traversing the realms by his methods was not easy, and he would have to rest again soon. He looked around, trying to rely more on his natural rather than his magical senses, to get his bearings. He was on the coast, and the sea brine was strong even on the top of the white cliffs on which Loki stood. In the distance, the Stark Mansion was just visible, ostentatious as all Starks possessions were. He used a slither of magic to scout out the house, finding it only inhabited by Stark, the woman Potts and Banner.

When the scientist left an hour or so later Loki was tempted to get revenge for Stark Tower, but instead made himself wait rather than strike to early. He was going to give them a show.

Night fell fast, and Loki waited for his time to act, regaining some measure of his strength in the time that passed. When the night was at it's darkest, it started to rain. Despite himself, Loki grinned. The clouds had come across the sky quickly, and the thunder began soon after. It appeared Odin had sent his favoured son.

From where Loki sat he could see Thor touch down in front of Stark's home, in an electric burst that could have shattered the windows.

By morning, the Avengers had assembled. Banner was first, the Captain soon after. The two spies arrived just before the dawn, and their lack of company made it appear that SHIELD had yet to be informed of the situation. Loki decided to wait until midday before his entrance to the party, it would be just enough time for them to think of a thousand reasons Loki had vanished, but before they settled on one or a course of action. It would also be enough time to ensure the rest of the team convinced the agents not to involve their superiors.

The hours passed slowly, and Loki got impatient. They were all there, all of those who had defeated him. He wanted to destroy them, but he couldn't be rash. They needed time to settle, to let their guard down. When the hour finally arrived Loki was ready, and strong.

It was over less than an hour later. Loki had tried to use stealth at first, but any use of magic weakened him far more than he had anticipated it would, and by the time they pinned him into a corner he could barely stand. The Hulk didn't even come out to play, none of them even had their suits. Even Stark only had his hand repulsers. What Loki did notice, however, was that Stark was not in a good way. He was jittery, and when Loki first arrived there was a second where he looked like he was going to go into an all out panic. Maybe Loki wasn't the only one affected by New York.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Two chapters in one day, aren't I lovely. Consider that the apology for Ch 5. I'd also like to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far.

* * *

Chapter Six

Tony made his escape whilst everyone else was still arguing about what to do. Tasha and Steve wanted to inform SHIELD, Thor wanted to take him home, Clint wanted to shoot him and Banner just wanted to leave. Tony didn't care what they decided, there was no way it would all go to plan anyway. Loki was a wildcard, and one Tony wanted to learn more about. It was always better when he was the only variable.

Jarvis had Loki under watch in one of the houses many guest rooms, and with the controls Tony had added since the gods last foray on earth it served as a makeshift prison. When Tony decreased the opacity of the glass walls he expected to see the trickster standing defiant, ready to rebuff any forms of contact with a quick gesture. Instead, Tony found him sitting with his legs crossed and his head bowed in the far corner of the room.

"Loki," he said by way of greeting.

Loki raised his head, but didn't speak. Thor had told them of his punishment when he first arrived. Tony found it a little crude, and clearly far too lenient, but Thor made it clear it wasn't his place to interfere in Asgardian affairs. Although it seemed they didn't really care about interfering in his affairs, which was a bit of a double standard really.

"You know, your little problem isn't really going to help me find out why the hell you're here." Tony lifted his hand to show Loki what he carried. "Which is why I bought this along."

Loki looked at the strange object in Starks hand. It looked like a pen, but it had buttons on the side and was a little too thick to be comfortable for writing. What was he going to do to him?

Tony narrowed his eyes slightly. Loki barely moved, but if anyone could recognise the signs of impending panic it was Tony. He'd been through it enough lately.

"Jarvis. Open the door, and lock it behind me. No-one else goes trough without me saying so, and I mean no-one."

The red light strip on the door turned green and Tony entered the room. It locked shut behind him and the opacity turned back up to full.

When Tony approached him, Loki flinched back. He wasn't sure exactly what the engineer was planning to do, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't end well for him. As Stark and the strange device got closer, Loki staggered back, all semblance of dignity gone. He didn't have the power to force him away.

"Woah, woah. Calm down. I'm just going to take off that gag. There are some questions you need to answer for us."

Loki's position in the corner of the room didn't allow him any avenue for escape, and he was reduced to merely gesturing and emphatically shaking his head. It was pretty clear that the collar wouldn't be so easily removed. Tony, however, ignored his frantic gestures.

The device whirred to life and the end glowed faintly blue. The instant it got within a foot of the bronze gag there was an explosion of energy. Stark was thrown clear across the room where he crashed into the heavy duty glass wall, cracking it slightly. Loki, meanwhile, was choked. The collar constricted, cutting off his airways and cutting into the skin about his chin and shoulders. He couldn't breathe, and doubled over as he tried to support himself. He didn't even notice when his instinctive facade dropped and he returned to his true form, aside from an abstract realisation that the blurred hands beneath him were oddly blue.

Tony came to his senses a moment later and took in the situation. He struggled to fight down the rising panic when he saw Loki bent over and chucking up a lung and not looking remotely human. He took a few moments to regulate his own breathing before going over to help the struggling god. Help Loki, he never thought he'd see the day.

He wasn't sure of what to do after getting Jarvis to display his heart rate and other information on the interactive wall. It was obvious the god of mischief was having a panic attack, but with the added complication of being choked all the more with every deep breath he tried to take. He also wasn't sure how to react to his sudden blue complexion. Thor had never mentioned anything like that before, was it normal?

Tony pulled him back into a sitting position and tried to help him breathe, but his mind was somewhere else. He couldn't help but think back to the times he had been in that position with Pepper or Bruce in his.

Unlike Loki, however, Tony never lost consciousness in a panic attack.

* * *

Loki woke in a four poster bed, lying in his bloody clothes over the duvet. This was becoming too much of a habit. He looked around and saw all six of the Avengers before him, which was also becoming too much of a habit. There was a difference this time. Rather than kneeling in front of him with an arrow trained between his eyes the archer was off to the side, avoiding his gaze. Stark seemed distracted, Thor looked concerned and the rest just looked confused.

He opened his mouth to ask a somewhat sarcastic question before catching himself as he struggled to sit up. Thor reached over to help him, grasping his arm, and that was when he realised what was wrong. He was weak, but had just enough power to mask his true form. It didn't work nearly as fast as he would have liked, though, and he could only sit in silence as his flesh gradually lost its bright hue. Once the mask was back in place he felt a little more comfortable.

The woman was the first to speak. "When you said he was adopted..."

Loki lowered his gaze. Thor hadn't told them of his heritage. Now he thought about it, even Thor hadn't seen his true nature before.

"He is still my brother. He may have been born a prince of Jotunheim, but he was raised a prince of Asgard. That is what matters."

The captain pushed forward. "What matters is what's wrong with him, and what we do about it."

"He's clearly not well," the scientist piped up from the back. "We can't just hand him over to Fury. Not in his condition." Loki was enraged by the way he was being so patronised to his very face, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Who cares if he's 'not well'?" Loki fought back a wry smile. The archer, predictable as always and out for revenge. "He's clearly crazy. Either kill him or lock him up and throw away the key."

"He's too valuable a resource," the spy woman chimed in. "SHIELD can use him."

It appeared Thor was losing patience at the same rate Loki was. "I am taking Loki home once he has recovered some measure of health. He is under Asgardian law."

"Not any more he isn't," Stark said, snapping out of his reverie. "We let it slide once but he's come back and attacked my property and Earth. He might be one of you from god-land, but we're not."

The captain moved to stand behind Stark, facing Thor. "Before we make any decisions, since our captive cant speak for himself, you need to explain just what's going on."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Stark made the final call in the end, firmly informing the others that Loki would be staying off of SHIELDs radar and in his guest room until his health improved, and that after that Thor would return him to Asgard with more stringent security measures in place.

Loki wasn't quite sure what Stark aimed to achieve by this, his health would be restored as well as it could be in a matter of days, and it wasn't like he could be useful in the meantime.

Thor had told them all his story there and then, whilst Loki was forced to listen in and hear it from his 'brothers' perspective. Thor tried to tell the tale without emotion, but it couldn't be helped. When he described their conflict at the Bifrost Loki could barely keep his breathing steady, maybe his actions weren't as justified as he had thought.

He attracted strange looks when Thor told the others of his fall from the shattered Rainbow Bridge. Stark and, oddly, Banner regarded him with a sympathetic understanding. The rest seemed disbelieving.

"Wait, you're saying he willingly let go?" Rogers said, abstractly gesturing towards where Loki lay motionless.

Thor nodded. "It was his decision to fall into the void."

Loki closed his eyes, as though by shutting of his vision he could escape the situation.

"How did he know he would survive?"

He could feel all their eyes on him as Thor replied. "From what I can tell, Loki let go believing it would be his death."

Romanoff, who had been silent up until this point, took this as her cue. "So he tried to kill himself."

Loki sighed, pushing his head back and wishing nothing more than that he had the power to vanish at that very moment. He had never quite thought of it that way. He opened his eyes to see how the others reacted to these words. Banner was looking at the ground, somewhat detached. The rest were looking at him with mixtures of pity and surprise. Thor simply looked sad. Perhaps he had mourned.

"Carry on, Thor." Rogers said once the silence had dragged on a minute too long, and Thor resumed his tale.

There were only minor interruptions for the rest of the story, they had all been present for most of it, and the rest only Loki knew, and even if he could speak he would take that information to his grave.

When Thor told them about his coughing fit Loki felt ashamed. He made him sound even more pathetic than he had thought. Was that what he had just been like in front of Stark, this mere human man? He really had hit rock bottom, it seemed. How spectacular that it was before this motley crew.

Stark quickly reaffirmed what had happened earlier that day, and it seemed all was done. There was nothing they could get from Loki, so there was nothing more to discuss. The group left, either to eat or mull over what they had learned, Loki didn't really care, but Thor and Stark hung back a moment. They too left, though, when they realised there was nothing to be done.

Loki gritted his teeth, trying to keep his emotions contained. Anger, anger was useful. Sadness was a plague that gave him no benefit. He forced himself out of bed in one fluid motion, fuelled by his annoyance at his very being. A plate of food had been left on the desk in the corner, the very thought of which made him feel sick.

He wanted to break something, to destroy something. He grabbed the first thing off the bedside table he could grab and propelled it at the opposite wall where it shattered into a thousand shards of glass. He wasn't even sure what it's original purpose had been, everything seemed to be glass in this house. It wasn't enough though, and Loki was still upset. The shards did, however, provoke a memory, which gave him an idea.

He glanced to the wall to ensure it was once again at its highest opacity before crossing the room to the fragments that littered the base of the wall. He sat before them, legs crossed, and rolled black the sleeve of his shirt. There were no marks from his self inflicted wounds but he could almost see them still, a reminder of the strength he had had in that moment. Strength he sorely needed.

He searched the shards of glass until he found one that was to his liking. If this became a habit he would need a more efficient method in future. Already he felt a little more calm, more controlled. Just holding this jagged edge he had a sense of power. It may only be power over his own body, but even that was more than he had had since the attack on Jotunheim. He wasn't just a puppet any more.

Loki scored a faint line across the width of his forearm with the glass, leaving a thin red line behind. This was quickly followed by another four, each thicker and deeper than the last, but none life threatening. He watched them bleed for a while, and they bleed profusely. It got over his clothes and the floor but he didn't care. Here it was, plain to see. Everything that he could no longer say.  
One again, he waited until the bleeding slowed before healing his wounds. This time, though, he didn't have the strength to complete the job. Left behind were five thin lines, nothing more than scratches. He didn't mind, he liked the reminder. He absent minded lay ran his finger over the wounds as he turned to the bookshelf in the corner of the room. There was no point in idly lying in bed when there was anything else he could do.

He chose one of the many books on what the humans called 'theoretical physics'. Most of it was wrong, all of it was outdated, but it was interesting to see the first steps towards discovery. More tired than he should be, Loki retired back to the bed after only a few hours. He didn't like the weakness of the situation, but he was already entirely under their power and if he didn't at least maintain his strength he would never complete his goal. Although at this point he wasn't quite sure as to how he could do that anyway.

Tony entered the room at a little gone midnight to check on his houseguest, who was sleeping restlessly in his guest bed. He was tossing, turning and sweating, caught in the throes of some nightmare. When he began to whimper Tony considered waking him but decided against it, even weakened a blast of magic to the face could do a lot of damage. As he was shutting the door Tony noticed the broken glass and blood on the floor, which he was sure hadn't been there at story time. He cleaned it up and when he got back down to his lab - he had his own nightmares to avoid - he told Jarvis to alert him, and only him, if something out of the ordinary occurred whilst Loki was alone at any time.

He didn't mention the blood or restless sleep to any of the others.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

In the days that followed everybody took turns to check on Loki and bring him meals, and he couldn't help but feel like a child or pet. Thor, Tony and Bruce sat with him whilst he ate, ensuring that he finished his meals. It hadn't taken them long to notice that left to his own devices meals would go to waste and his strength would wane. The soldier and the spies thought it a tactic, some way to garner sympathy or remain close to them. They were happy for him to starve himself to death before they would fall for his tricks. The little he was eating was barely enough to keep him healthy, and Jarvis soon informed Tony that the god of mischief wasn't sleeping either.

Tony also found himself unable to sleep, constantly plagued by the memories of New York. He spent his nights in the workshop, building suits to ensure his and Peppers safety. Now, with Loki and Thor and all the others here, he had to do even more. If it came to a fight he needed the upper hand. He even had a suit that he thought could handle the Hulk now. It was whilst he was putting the finishing touches on the Mark 38 that Jarvis alerted him to a situation with Loki. Tony ran to help him, in case he started choking again.

Loki had shut himself in the en suite. It hadn't taken him long to find a sharp razor amongst Tony's many possessions. He had been craving the feeling of tearing skin for days, but had tried to resist. He couldn't help but feel ashamed at times, when he felt the raised lines on his arm. He saw it as his weakness, the fact that he had to go to such extremes to gain some measure of power or control.

He had drawn the blade across him arm so many times that it was a mess of blood when he sensed someone running. The few meals he had been forced into eating had some benefit, other than merely making him feel ill and disgusted with himself. Whilst he deplored the charity or preservation of self, it did give him a measure of power. He was able to send out tendrils of magic to alert him to the presence of others, which was useful when he was doing something to hide.

When he sensed this presence, though, he was not prepared. It was in the early hours of the morning, and he didn't think anybody else would be awake, particularly not running towards his rooms. There was no way he could even cover up the wounds, let alone pretend to be asleep or reading a book. Instead, he instinctively went for an old trick that had served him well many times in the past. As he held his breath, waiting on the bathroom floor, another version of himself materialised into existence on the other side of the door.

"Loki!" The voice belonged to Tony Stark, and he actually sounded upset. Concerned. Why?

Image-Loki kept his eyes closed, trying to feign sleep. Meanwhile, Actual-Loki tried to quietly clean himself up. The illusion, however, was a strain on his power and he couldn't just heal himself.

"I know you're awake, what happened Loki? Are you alright? Wait..." Loki opened the illusions eyes and looked through them, costing him even more power. Tony was slowly approaching, looking confused. "What happened to your collar?"

Loki looked down at the illusion he had created, and surely enough the collar wasn't there. The gag must only be linked to his own body, but if his illusions weren't bound... His mind reeling, Loki reached up and locked the bathroom door as he caused the illusion to vanish. Had he just found a way around this?

Tony heard the lock click as the Loki before him vanished into thin air. He had heard of this trick from Thor, but had never seen it. He certainly didn't think the sickly man had the strength to do much aside from keep himself alive, let alone create a complex illusion. And if these illusions weren't bound, what did that mean?

He crossed the room and hammered on the door. What was he hiding? "Open the door! Loki, open up!"

Loki just sat in silence, severely weakened from the magic and trying to sort out his thoughts. As he tried to keep his breathing steady he watched as his own personal illusion wavered and then reappeared. After a few minutes it settled, pale white skin visible under fresh blood. Tony continued to hammer on the door, and eventually Loki gave in. He was caught out.

"Loki, I swear if you don't open this door right now I will get my suit and blast it open with you-" Tony stopped speaking abruptly when the door unlocked but didn't open. He took a moment to prepare himself before entering. The first thing he saw as he swung the door open was patches of blood on the floor. Taking a deep breath, he stepped in the room and saw Loki sitting cross legged in the corner by the door, his head bowed and arm bleeding. Beside him was a stained towel where he must have tried to clean himself up.

Even though it was his own home, and Loki was basically a prisoner, and he was worried about him, Tony felt like he'd invaded his space. "I got Jarvis to tell me if something was up," he said, gesturing vaguely behind him before his voice trailed off. He crossed to the sink, which had a medical kit underneath, and found some bandages. He then got a fresh towel and used it to clean up Loki's arm before he bound his wounds. Loki just sat in silence, not even looking at the man who knelt before him.

"There are so many questions I really want to ask you right now." Tony tied a final knot. Loki's entire left arm below the elbow was completely covered. It was a miracle he didn't bleed out, although perhaps gods could survive a little more than humans could. He put his head in his hand for a moment, unsure what to do with himself. "It looks like we might have found a way for you to talk to us now though."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Tony sat up with him until morning, whilst Loki remained motionless. He didn't respond to any of Tony's words or actions, he just expelled heavy breaths as though he could just will himself out of the situation. Tony knew he wouldn't get any answers that night, Loki probably didn't even have the strength to do it again. It was only through sheer force of will that he hadn't fallen asleep yet.

"I don't know how to deal with you," Tony said when the first rays of light came through the window.

Loki didn't respond, but Tony knew he was listening to every word. "We should have thrown you to the dogs the moment you got here."

This caused Loki to raise his head, asking a silent question: Why didn't you?

"Now, I'm not so sure about just what's been going on this whole time. You're sick."

Biting his lip, Loki nodded. There was no way to deny it now.

"I'm not going to be able to hide this for long if you carry on. And I've got to let them know you could talk."

Loki was still, he didn't know what he wanted. He was relieved to know that there was a way around this, that he could still have some measure of his former power, but it wasn't the same. He would have to live behind this illusion for the rest of his life. Quite honestly, he wasn't sure it was worth it. Especially not whilst he was a prisoner here. Cornered, he would have to answer all those questions that were put to him.

He needed a way to get out, but there was nowhere for him to go. Even if he could again gather the power to transport himself across the realms, he would be rejected in them all. What kind of life would he have as an outlaw in Vanaheim or Alfheim? In Asgard he would be a prisoner just like he was here, and Jotunheim was not even an option to be considered, unless death was the best way to go. Loki forced his mind off of that path before it took him somewhere he didn't want to go.

"Damn it, Loki! Say something. Do something!" Tony had lost his patience, and had to refrain from punching something. He didn't feel comfortable being in charge here, and the situation was a lot more complicated than he had ever thought it would be.

Loki took a deep breath, it was now or never. He had to see if it worked. He dropped his own mask and used the power to create a secondary illusion. Beside him, another Loki sat. Clean, in his armour. It was a Loki at the height of his power and it was unbound.

Already he felt his energy drained, but he forced it to continue. He used a last burst of strength to totally inhabit the illusion, to look through its eyes, hear through its ears and maybe even speak with its voice.

Transported a foot to the left, he turned to regard himself. His hair was long and unkempt, his clothing stained and too big. He was a mess of blood and dirt. He was a jotun and a disgrace.

Turning back to Tony, who was looking quickly between the two as though he too couldn't believe the difference, he just had the strength to ask his own question.

"What do you want from me, Stark?"

* * *

When Loki next woke he had an IV pumping into his arm. Groggily, he opened his eyes. Thor sat beside him, watching intently. On the far side of the room Banner and Tony were engaged in conversation. Thor quickly alerted them to his waking.  
"Brother, you're awake," Thor said, reaching to grasp his shoulder. "You slept almost a week. We thought for some days that you might not wake at all."

Loki just turned to face him, still not entirely awake. It was a strange feeling to sleep peacefully. He went to pull the IV out, but Tony stopped him.

"I wouldn't do that quite yet, big man."

Loki didn't out up a fight, letting his arm fall back down heavily. He hurriedly reinstated his mask. He hated his true form, and waking in that state was nothing short of embarrassing.

"Loki, Tony has said you discovered a way to speak with us. Could you do it now?" Thor seemed almost desperate.

"Give him a minute," Banner told him. "He might have woken up but he still has to recover."

Thor looked a little crestfallen at the scientists words, but accepted them without comment. Loki was relieved to be spared the conversation, if only for a little while.

"Do you wish for any food or drink? Tony Stark has any that you could wish for here," Thor told him. Loki nodded, more to send him away than for any other reason. Banner and Tony exchanged glances as he left, before Tony followed him, leaving Loki alone with the scientist.

Loki gave him a questioning glance. Aside from staying to ensure he ate something, he never seemed too bothered with Loki's wellbeing. Most of the time he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, or he just wanted to leave. Unlike his brother and host, Banner had never spoken to him.

"So, Loki," he began tentatively, "I, uh, don't know what to say." He ran a hand through his hair. "Tony, he told me about your, err, little problem." He gestured vaguely to Loki's arm, which was hidden by long sleeves. "Thor and the others don't know. Don't worry."

He was silent for a long while. "This is crazy. This is crazy!"

Loki remained motionless, curious as to how this would pan out.

"The bridge. You let go on the bridge."

It wasn't a question, but Loki nodded, a simple sign for him to continue.

"We've all had a go on your life before, mostly in self defence, but that's different. But I, I get it. I've been it that situation."

This warranted Loki's attention, and he sat up a little despite himself. He narrowed his eyes slightly, wanting him to continue.

"You being in that position isn't good for anyone. I know from my own experience it hurts people, in my case quite literally." He frowned a moment, looking back at the memory. After he'd shit himself and transformed his memory was foggy, but he remembered the next day very well. Luckily, nobody had died when he went on a rampage. "If you need to..." His voice faltered. "You can speak now. And if you've got anything to say we're going to listen. You don't need to do that again."

Banner left the room as soon as he finished speaking, not even giving Loki a chance to respond. Loki just sat in confusion at what had transpired. They were trying to reach out to him, trying to help him, but they couldn't forget his past. Neither could he, and now, now Loki knew. He wasn't worth saving.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: I'm back at school now, so updates may not be as regular as they were before. I also think I'm getting close to the conclusion of this story.

Chapter Ten

Once it was clear Loki was secure, the spies and the soldier had returned to New York, each having their own affairs to attend to. Bruce and Thor stayed in the mansion, partly to keep and eye on him and partly because they had nowhere else to go. Bruce had lived as a nomad for a long time, and felt uncomfortable in his own home. He often spent nights here anyway, not bothering to make the journey back when both he and Stark knew that he would return again to continue their conversation the next day.

Loki soon found that his days were filled with company and watchful eyes. Thor and Bruce would often sit with him in the day and speak to him of things of little consequence, but both threaded carefully about him. Both were unsure as to whether he was more likely to harm himself or them, and what they should watch out for. Whilst Thor was much more comfortable in his role, there were times when he treated Loki coldly. Most often when Loki refused to communicate with him. Thor would get upset, angry even, that his brother was so stubborn. Bruce was never quite sure of what to say. He simply spoke about what was happening in the world, but he was careful not to mention anything that could give Loki ideas for future conquest. Occasionally, he spoke of himself to try and engage Loki in a more involved conversation, but these attempts were fleeting and almost always followed by him swiftly exiting the room.

Some nights, Tony Stark would find his way into Loki's rooms. It didn't take Loki long to realise that Tony's artificial intelligence still had its eye trained on him, as the next time he went to shut himself in the bathroom Stark was there before he could even do anything. After that Tony spent most nights with him, and neither asked the other why they didn't sleep.

Tony would often bring Loki books that he thought he might enjoy, on topics such as astrophysics and advanced engineering. Every now and then, however, he bought a work of fiction. Loki never gave any indication of the fact, but the fantasy tales Tony gave him were his favourites. Tony never gave any indication of the fact that he noticed how much faster Loki read these works, aside from putting more thought into his choices of these and bringing them a little more often. Tony didn't bother trying to engage Loki in conversation, instead he simply sat with him as he read books of his own.

Loki barely even noticed when he got back into a regular eating pattern.  
It was after almost a month passed in this fashion that Captain America returned to the mansion, Black Widow and Hawkeye in tow. Loki saw them arrive from the window in his room.

"What do we know?" Were Clint's first words to Tony.

"Hey, come in. Make yourselves at home." Tony extravagantly gestured for them to enter the premises.

"Sorry, Tony, it's just that we haven't got any news from you yet, and it's been a while now." Natasha said before Clint could retort.

Tony went to sit on the couch, the other Avengers following. "That's because we haven't got anything out of him."

"I thought he could talk now?" Steve asked.

Bruce, who had been in the kitchen, made his way over to join them. "He can, but that doesn't mean he wants to. Hasn't said a word to any of us."

"Not even his brother? Where is Thor?" Natasha asked him.

"He's with Loki now. We try to have someone with him at all times, in case he tries anything. Anyway, he's more likely to talk to Tony than anyone else."

Tony just shrugged when three confused faces turned towards him, he wasn't sure why it was this way either.

Steve stood up. "The thing is, SHIELD contacted Clint whilst we were in New York. They asked if he knew why Thor has been staying here, and why we were all here before."

Tony smirked. "Not keeping tabs on us, right?"

"They've got reason to, clearly." Natasha replied.

"They don't know he's here though, do they?" Bruce asked.

Clint shook his head. "They didn't have a clue, not from what I could tell. I say we get rid of him before they can find out."

"That's not going to happen." Tony responded at the same time Bruce replied, "No way."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the two. "What's going on?"

Tony sighed, not knowing where to begin. "Loki is sick. He's self destructive. Even though he knows he can communicate now he refuses to, even for the most simple things. He's unstable."

"Are you saying that you're helping him?" Clint asked, incredulous.

"We're keeping a valuable asset alive." Tony said.

"He's not all that valuable right now." Clint retorted.

Steve stood between the two men before they could get into an argument. "That's beside the point. Loki is alive and no matter who he is we are not going to kill him in cold blood. We've got to decide what we're going to do about SHIELD."

Natasha lay back, crossing her ankles. "Hand him over, or send him home."

"Can we send him home?" Steve asked.

Tony nodded. "Thor used the Tesseract to get here. It's locked in my lab in a case right now." He shot a sideways glance at Bruce. "There's no way SHIELD can trace it."

"Why can't they?" Natasha asked. "Bruce gave them the tracking algorithms."

"It's a vibranium case. The gamma radiation is absorbed and dissipated. Undetectable."

Steve turned to face the engineer. "Vibranium?"

Tony smirked. "I have my sources."

"What do we do then?"

There was a long moment of silence before Natasha piped up.

"First off, we get Thor."

* * *

Tony collected Thor from his room hours ago, and still Loki was alone. They hadn't given him this much privacy in weeks. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that this wasn't good news. For all the Avengers to suddenly gather under one roof once more, something must have happened. Most likely, something to do with him.

Night fell, an nobody told him what was happening. He found he couldn't concentrate, not even on the latest work of fiction Tony had brought him. He simply sat cross legged on the bed, trying to consider all possibilities and work out a contingency plan for each. It didn't take him long to realise the only way was down. He had once been a king, but there was no way he could ever be restored to that former glory.

Tony himself was in a similar predicament. They hadn't been able to decide on a course of action, they all thought too differently about the situation and the man. Exasperated, Tony had left the discussion and retreated into his lab, telling Jarvis not to disturb him for any reason. The arguments ran through his head. Thor and Bruce thought he should be returned to Asgard, although Bruce most likely just wanted the issue to be over quickly. Natasha and Clint wanted to hand him over and have him pay for his crimes. Steve tried to bridge the gap between the two pairs without coming down from the fence. Tony... Tony just wanted a good nights sleep with Pepper by his side. But Pepper had left and moved into the newly refurbished Stark Tower a week ago, sick of having a phantom partner. Tony didn't blame her.

After a failed attempt at peaceful sleep, he just decided to do some more work on his new Mark 40.

When the hour passed in which Tony usually tiredly staggered into Loki's room uneventfully, Loki couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. Would they so easily stop caring and just hand him over to those who wished him harm? Subject him to that torture again? He was foolish to think things may have changed. Foolish to stop seeing himself as a prisoner, a mad man.

He waited for ten minutes after shutting himself away and locking the door. Tony didn't come running like he had before. He waited another ten after arming himself. Still no sign. So easily left behind. This time, he dug the sharp edge into the flesh of his arm and slowly, excruciatingly pulled it down towards his palm. He watched as the skin split behind the metal and opened, blood pouring down and covering himself and the floor. Once he'd gotten halfway down his arm he gave up and threw the blade away in rage. Where were they?


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Sorry for the delay! School and emotions getting in the way. I think this story may soon be drawing to a close...

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Tony found Loki with his head in his hands, hidden behind the door the next day. He was covered in blood, and a huge gash on his arm was still trickling occasional drops onto his already soaked clothing. He must have been sitting there for hours, any human would likely be dead by now.

As soon as he saw him, Tony ran to his side and grabbed his wrists, carefully to avoid the savage cut. "I'm sorry," he said. "Please, just talk to me."

Almost imperceptibly, Loki shook his head. He didn't look at Tony, instead he just stared at the mark on his arm. He didn't bother healing it.

Tony cleaned the wound and bandaged it, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. Why did he tell Jarvis not to bother him? He knew this could happen. He was lucky Loki didn't go an extra few inches down. He should have been there.

After looking him over Tony just led Loki to the shower, the skin on his arm was stained pink and he even had blood in his hair and on his face. Before he left the bathroom, Tony quickly gathered up anything sharp or anything that could be broken to form a sharp edge. When he shut the door behind him and heard the shower start to run, he sank down to the floor, dropping all he carried onto the floor beside him.

He put his head in his hands and tucked his knees up to his chest, unconsciously echoing the position in which he had found the maimed god. He was at a loss for what to do. On the other side of the door was a man who should have been thrown to the dogs the minute he arrived, but here Tony was caring for his wellbeing. If one thing was clear to him, it was that the Loki here was not the same man as the one who attacked New York. Something had changed.

Tony looked up when he heard someone clear their throat. Expecting Thor or Bruce, he was surprised to see an ungagged Loki before him, dressed in clean but simple clothes. The illusion sat beside him.

"What do you plan to do with me?" He was quiet, as though he didn't want to push himself too far.

"We haven't decided on anything yet. It's a difficult conversation." Tony spoke simply, not bothering with his usual snark. It wasn't the time or place. Loki was finally speaking, and he didn't want to push him back into silence.

Loki nodded, and was quiet for a while. He didn't know what to say, now that he had the option. Before, he had thought out conversations in his head a thousand times, but now he felt lost.

"Why did you do it?" Tony asked.

Loki, completely absorbed in his illusion, rested his head back on the wall. There was only one thing he could be asking about, he knew why for everything else. "It wasn't my choice. Not entirely."

Tony eyed him sceptically. "You were in charge there. You lead that army."

Awkwardly wrapping his fingers together, Loki shook his head. "I lead them, but they were not mine."

"But why?"

"I needed it to stop."

Tony waited for him to elaborate for a long time, but he seemed reluctant to.

"Loki, what happened to you?"

Loki turned over his hand so his palm faced upwards. The illusion shifted from pale skin to blue. Tony didn't comment on the marks just visible under his sleeve. "Fire."

It took a moment for Tony to understand just what he was trying to say. Loki was a frost giant, and the best way to defeat cold is with heat. They, whoever they were, had tortured him with fire until he couldn't stand any more.

Tony almost understood why he did what he did in that instance. Thor had told him enough of his own guilt about their childhood to understand that Loki wasn't the most appreciated person. Shunned for hundreds, thousands, of years. Tormented by those he admired. Then to have power put into his grasp only to be yanked away, that enough would drive anyone insane. But to then be tortured after completely giving up...

No wonder he didn't sleep. Tony thought he had nightmares, his must be nothing compared to this deranged gods.

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

Loki wasn't listening, absorbed in his own mind. The fire, the burning. It felt like his very flesh was melting off of his skin, bubbling away. Even after they had stopped there was the tiredness and the weakness. He was barely able to walk due to the exhaustion at first. The pain.

He jerked back to reality when he heard a bang on the door. He had let his illusion drop, and most likely worried Tony.

The shower had run cold, and he quickly got out and knocked back on the door to let Tony know he was ok. He then dressed himself and opened the door, forcing away the memories as best he could.

Tony looked relieved to see him well, which Loki still wasn't used to. He was sure Tony couldn't be used to the feeling either.

"Could I speak to you again?" Tony asked, but Loki shook his head. He was struggling to remain composed and not lapse into some kind of panic attack.

"Why not?" He pressed, and Loki pointed towards the door, curtly asking him to leave. He tried to regulate his breathing, concentrating more on keeping it steady than the man before him.

Tony looked at him for a long moment before nodding and leaving him be. Absorbed in thought, his feet followed the familiar path from Loki's room to his basement lab. He wasn't sure of how to take everything he had learned recently, and how much about Loki had become apparent. He only became fully aware of what he was doing when he heard his name.

"Tony, how is he?" Bruce asked.

He span around to where the scientist was in the corner, experimenting with some holographic proton models. "Not good."

"Is he a... flight risk?" Bruce asked, with a moments hesitation. He had spoken to Tony of these issues before, but he always preferred to avoid mentions of suicide and his own past attempt at ending his life.

Tony thought on it a moment before he replied. "Right now, I think anything could push him over the edge."

Bruce nodded, lapsing into a moment of silence before speaking. "You need to tell Thor. He feels completely shut out, and completely responsible."

"Is it my fault if Loki doesn't want to speak to him?"

"Does he speak to you?"

Tony was caught a little off guard by the question, not fully realising where the conversation had been heading. "I got a couple words out of him. He wasn't clear, but it looks like he was just a pawn in New York."

Bruce sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think that matters to any of them now."


	12. Sorry, just a quick update!

Sorry this isn't an actual chapter.

I feel so bad about the fact that I haven't posted in almost two weeks now, and thought you deserved a reason. Especially considered how fast I had been uploading before.

I'm back at school now, just starting my A2's, which is stressful and time consuming to say the least. I've also been going through an emotional rough patch and haven't really been feeling it lately. I'm really hoping it picks up soon, my goal is to get another chapter done within a week (not great, but it's something).

In the meantime, I hope you've enjoyed my work so far, and any reviews or comments you have would be greatly appreciated.

I'll be back on form soon hopefully, and after that, well, we're nearing the end of _this_ story...


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